Reality's Illusion
by S.N. Rainsworth
Summary: - Illusions commend themselves to us because they save us pain. We must accept that without complaint when they sometimes collide with a bit of reality, to which they are broken to pieces.  When they are gone you may still exist, but you cease to live. -


_R_ **e** A _**Li** tY_'_s_ **I** _Ll_ u**_Si_** oN

**"Sometimes the appropriate response to reality is to go insane."**

-Xx-Xx-Xx-

_The moonlight, which exposes sadness_  
_Coldly illuminated_  
_Despair and the future_  
_That are friendly with each other within the darkness,_

-Xx-Xx-Xx-

He swore he was not going crazy.

It was the damn _bird._ It was _following _him. He was so sure of it; the same, palm sized bird was following him from the small, green, town of Darium, to the train to Central, all the way to now. The same damn _bird _that was chirping like crazy over his head. How did he know it was the same, you ask? There was no way a bird like that would show up more than five freaking times a day. And was that same shade of blue, with the same size and those same beady eyes staring at him.

Oh goddammit. He _was _going insane.

Even telling his brother once or twice had gotten Alphonse into thinking that he having hallucinations, so he waved it off as an abnormality, telling Al that he was just joking. After all, there was no way that a bird would be following them, right? He was just being paranoid.

Right.

But he still couldn't shake off the damn thing. It was flying behind him, chirping crazily as he made his way toward HQ, for god's sake.

"Sir, would you mind taking this survey?"

Edward Elric's head snapped around to meet that of an eager man's with dark brown hair and equally brown eyes. He seemed like the normal Amestrian civilian, with a laminated card reading that he was a student at Central University tied around a ribbon in his neck. Casual khaki pants, a short sleeved blue polo, and sneakers. Nothing odd, but his question was anything but. The blonde alchemist's eyes furrowed.

"What?"

"A survey." At his confused look, Alphonse spoke up from next to him. "It's like a questionnaire, brother. Some people go around and ask about a particular subject." Edward ignored the slightly intimated look of the student with the clipboard, and thought about it. He didn't really have the time, the report in his suitcase needed to be delivered to Colonel Mustang's office soon by his orders. But, Edward mused, anything to keep from seeing that's bastard's face was fine with him. Plus, what would a few questions hurt? He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"Ah...okay, I guess," he answered, unsure of himself. The student smiled brightly. They all walked to a more comfortable place, the place being a cafe where other young looking people wore the same laminated cards and clipboards and interrogating other Amestrians as the one in front of him was doing. With a clank of armor, he felt Alphonse sitting next to him, and waited for the student in front of him to talk.

He seemed to get the hint, because then he set down his clipboard on the table and cleared his throat. "Well, for starters, I'm Austin Brigham, a senior at Central University."

"Yeah, I could see that." Edward cut off before Austin could continue. Alphonse reprimanded his brother's rudeness gently. The student brushed off the smaller man's brisk attitude nervously and continued.

"We're currently doing a survey for the Amestrian Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, or the ASPCA for short. We're doing a project of - " Once again, Edward interrupted.

"Just get on to the questions, please." he told the senior irritably. He did not want to hear about some stupid organization, but it had to do with animals and he knew that he just couldn't leave _animals_ alone, especially ones that were being tortured, (the Elric Family empathy for animals took him over,) and Alphonse would have his head if he simply sawed this off. Austin flushed slightly and cleared his throat again.

"Right. So, what do you think of..."

Edward found himself sitting there for twenty minutes, answering what seemed like pointless questions. Although, he could spot Alphonse staring at him, and he knew that his little brother wanted to know his answers to these questions too. So he just sucked it all in and answered, hoping that they would _get this over with. _Hell, he even _wanted _to see Mustang now. He was just on autopilot, not even thinking of what he was saying save for a tiny bit. That was, until a question snagged his entire attention,

"What's your favorite animal?"

Edward blinked. "What?"

"Favorite animal."

He opened his mouth to say how it seemed unnecessary to the _survey _that they were supposedly conducting, but the curiosity of his little brother's soul eyes caught in his peripheral vision, and he heaved a heavy sigh, leaning back in the white chair. Favorite animal...? He like cats and dogs equally, sharing Alphonse's fetish and being with Den for so long that he had gained a fondness for both animals, but he didn't really choose between animals. It was all unimportant to him and his goal, so he didn't have time to think on it.

"I...don't really have one." he admitted. He noticed Austin's face sort of fell in disappointment, and he had a sneaking suspicion that this question wasn't on the paper in his hand.

"Oh," the University student said, clearing his throat once again. _Does he need a cough drop or something?_ Edward thought absentmindedly. "Well, thank you for inputting your opinion! It meant a lot." He added at the end, giving Edward one last smile. Edward nodded curtly, before his eyes strayed to the clock on top of the entrance to the cafe. His eyes widened visibly.

"Oh, holy crap!" he exclaimed suddenly, causing both Alphonse and Austin to jump in their seats. Alphonse shifted and Austin looked over worriedly.

"What's wrong?"

Edward was fussing with his red coat, and he ignored the brown-haired man for the moment when he brought out his silver pocket watch and opened it hurriedly. He feared what was written, and didn't even notice when Austin paled considerably. 3:49 PM. He turned to the large suit of armor.

"Al! We're about a whole hour late! Colonel Sparky is going to _kill_ me!" Edward whined, then turned to Austin to tell him that they had to leave, when Austin seemed to regain his senses.

"You a State Alchemist...?" he squeaked. Edward blinked and looked down, realizing that he had just showed his State Alchemist watch in front of a civilian. He smiled sheepishly while Alphonse got up, saying, "Your so forgetful, brother."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist. I gotta go. Hope you have fun with you animal torture group or whatever!" Edward shouted from behind him, while running at full speed toward Headquarters. He ignored Al's shocked cries of, "Nii-san!" from behind him. He also ignored the _damned bluebird _that showed up again and was flying behind him.

-Xx-Xx-Xx-

_Once more, I want to love the glaringly bright world_  
_That shattered in the distance and vanished_  
_Hide your dream in your eyes_  
_Until tears come falling_  
_Onto your sullied heart,_

-Xx-Xx-Xx-

"Your late, Fullmetal."

Edward huffed, purposely ignoring the smug smirk and calculatingly icy gaze of his superior officer. He plopped down on one of the leather sofas unceremoniously, taking on a lazy pose when his little brother in the large armor sighed and sat down next to him.

"Well, it's not my fault. I got held up," he muttered, sending a sour glare the Colonel's way. Mustang put down his pen and interlaced his fingers amusedly.

"And what, pray tell, 'held you up'?"

At Mustang's evident sarcasm, Edward deduced that the man was obviously having a bad day. He seemed more ruffled than usual, and decided that he would be much more easier to rile up today. He may finally get the upper hand. But for now, he settled to answering.

"Some stupid guy with a survey or whatever..."

"Nii-san! Austin-san was perfectly nice! You were just being rude."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever..."

Mustang smirked at his subordinate's lack of interest in the subject. He did notice though, how Edward seemed to be thinking deeply about something; his brows were furrowed, and his lips were pressed tightly together. He was staring intently at the window on the farther right side of the opposite wall. Mustang glanced over to see what had gotten his interest; he found nothing, just the usual trees and occasional woodland animal and bird. Mustang sighed.

"Alright, Fullmetal. Just hand over the report on your time in Darium, and your off the hook for the rest of the day."

Edward's head snapped toward him, sending his braid flying. He stared wide-eyed, before nodding and throwing a manila file on the desk. He grumbled a half-hearted excuse, and made his way to the door.

"By the way, make sure you cause a _little _less ruckus next time you come in, Fullmetal."

"WHO'RE YOU CALLIN' SO SMALL HE COULD BUILD A PENTHOUSE SUITE IN AN OXYGEN ATOM!"

"Nii-san! He wasn't even talking about you!"

Mustang smirked. It was stress-reliving to see how the blonde alchemist would react, and this one actually took the cake. Mustang waved them off, before wondering what had gotten Edward to think about something so deeply. He had not even asked him about any new leads to the Philosopher's stone, and seemed like he wanted to get out quickly. Plus, he hadn't even kicked the door as hard.

Mustang looked to the window that Edward was staring at. Then he looked again, closer this time, watching every movement of the leaves carefully.

Wasn't there a bluebird there before?

-Xx-Xx-Xx-

_The phantom carriage parts the darkness_  
_And goes toward where the light is_  
_The trap known as dreams_  
_Lures us toward the flames,_

-Xx-Xx-Xx-

_Bluebird, huh...?_

He was all alone.

For once, he couldn't sleep. It wouldn't take him; Alphonse had gone off on one of his three-hour long walks. Normally, Edward would be worried; he is worried. But not as much. His mind kept going back to what happened this morning. No words were exchange, but he could see it in the student's eyes:_ who doesn't have a favorite animal?_

He supposed he did.

After all, if he kept reaching the impossible, surely something like this could be added to the list? But that was the problem; he didn't want to have that list. He wanted to be normal, but normalcy was out of his grasp ever since he was born. He had the ancestry of an ancient, died-out country - as if that wasn't weird enough. He could read at two, understand things that would make most adults cry at five, and he survived the bloodiest pit of hell.

He was man of the impossible.

And yet, he wondered if he could trade it all, he would. He wondered about lazy nights on the rooftops, with Alphonse by his side and Winry sleeping on his shoulder. Alphonse, his flesh and blood brother, who would be here sleeping beside him today. The days where they would help the old farmer pick his crops and sometimes milk the cows (how do you think he got his hatred?) and come home from playing tag and other games to Granny's cooking and if he was lucky Winry might help make an apple pie.

How their teacher would throw chalk at them when they refused to listen, because they were always too smart for their age. Then he thought about their mistake, and it left him with another painful squeeze in his chest and a sharp intake of breath. Because he couldn't let it go, because it was a reminder of how much of a fool he was, and how much he should learn how to never be one again.

The moon seemed full, up in the darkly tainted sky. But he could tell it wasn't full, not just because he simply knew from books and maps and charts, but because there was a silver, a strip that seemed to be missing. It was not whole; it was not full until it disappeared as the morning dawn came up, and then back down again. It had a point to reach, a subconscious goal to fulfill and it moved in an ever flowing cycle to finish it.

Just like him.

He supposed that he was insane. Because the bluebird had followed him home. He wondered if he was prone to birds just like Alphonse was prone to cats. It wouldn't make sense, but his mind was foggy and unclear; he didn't want to make sense. So instead, he leaned forward.

"Your following me, aren't 'cha?"

He didn't know what he was expecting; anything but the slight cock of the bird's head. He chuckled, surprised. The bird was perched on his window, chirping softly at him. He had almost missed it; he only opened his window to get a breath of air, really. He hadn't even realized the bird was there. It was such a rich shade of royal, deep, blue that it almost mixed in with the night sky. He decided afterward, that his life was just like the bluebird.

Just as hidden.

-Xx-Xx-Xx-

_No shout of any sort will reach_  
_The merciless gods above the sky_  
_We'll be the blazing firewood_  
_And seem to burn away the sky someday,_

-Xx-Xx-Xx-

His mental capacities was far larger than any adults; he was a genius, of course. A stupid genius. But he kept it all away, safely tucked into the corner of his mind only to be used when he wanted it to be used. Nothing more, nothing less. He was far by much more mature for his age; eyes of an ancient man, not that of a fifteen year old boy's. His mind was filled with locations and codes and transmutation circles and ways to stay _alive, _not cars and how much school sucked or worrying about a girlfriend, like other boys his age would do.

He just wasn't his age.

He was in the middle, forced to grow up from his childhood straight into adulthood, misplacing his teenage years altogether. He had shifted so quickly, that most people missed him. He didn't belong anywhere; not a child, yet not a teen, nor fully an adult. He was simply in the curriculum and he kept his spot there, unwavering and headstrong. His life was so messed up, he'd seen so much blood, so much pain and fear and despair, why had he not gone off the deep end?

Because Alphonse still needed him, that's why.

Alphonse was sorely most of his point of living. He messed up his little brother's life, taken away his chance to really live for the last four years, where he was trapped in his own unfeeling metal prison, unable to sleep and eat. He had taken away the most mundane forms of enjoyment from him, yet Alphonse still chose to follow him and idolize him, to still _love _him although he should _hate _him.

Yet, there were also those slightly happy times. Those moments with Maes Hughes and his wife Gracia and their daughter Elysia, warm and loving like a real family. Before he led Hughes to his murder, anyways.

And playing with Nina and Alexander in the snow, where he would chase both of them with his automail transmuted, while Al would be creating a slide on the side. Before their father created a chimera out of his only daughter, anyways.

And then, he thought, anyone that got close to him was only evident for misery in their near future. He was a bad omen, he created death and spewed every bad thing that happened around him, no matter what anybody else said.

And yet...Edward thought how they still stuck around him. They still treated him warmly, as if he was their own metaphorical little brother.

He both hated it and loved it.

It warmed him and reminded him that the warmth that he would be feeling would soon be gone. It hurt him, and yet he couldn't stop. It teared him, and yet...he still yearned for it.

He was such a monster.

He sometimes wondered why he was still alive.

Don't get him wrong, the thought of really doing suicide would earn him a punch and kick from his little brother and a _lot _of lectures from Hawkeye, but it was impossible not to thing about. That way, all the pain would end. He would be able to be free, he wouldn't have to carry any more burdens on his shoulders. It was such a tempting thought, to just lose himself. All is One, One is All. He was a tiny part of the large cycle of the world, so everyone would get over his death eventually.

But then the words of his teacher came back; _"Death is the coward's way out."_

And he was not a coward.

-Xx-Xx-Xx-

_ Turning the secret that you gave me into a sign_  
_I go through the silence of the pale night,_

-Xx-Xx-Xx-

So that was the only reason why he still shouldered everything, why he continued.

Why he was still walking when he desperately wanted to stop and sit. If he would push himself to finish this, then he would. Edward looked at the bluebird again, then up at the moon. He laid out his finger for the bird to hop on, which it did. He didn't feel the scratch of it's claws, because it was his automail arm. He held his arm up on instinct, letting the almost full moon shine down on the bird and his arm, both shining dimly.

The bluebird flew through reality like an illusion, as fast as it came and as soon as it went, it flitted and sent happiness to people, it showed them joy. Yet it was also the symbol of reality, of what was to come and how it was going to come. The bluebirds still exposed sadness and sorrow to it's people as did it show them cheer. It was a paradox, and it mocked him.

It mocked him of what he could have, a far away dream that was long gone and slipped through his hands. It mocked him of what he did have, of the mistakes he made and that every breath that he was taking was the breath that he was taking _now _and nothing was going to change it unless he made that change happen.

And he thought, he wouldn't mind having both. To keep him awake and to keep him forever locked in a dream. It was both heaven and hell, neither in between.

The bird flew off toward the moon, and his arm fell to his side, limp. He decided that it wasn't so bad. That if his life was like that, then maybe could be able to work with it. But he watched as the bird flew off, and he couldn't help but wishing and wondering for what could never be his. And that's what sickened him, because he also did not wish to change what happened now. If he hadn't performed his mistakes, then he would have never learned.

_And_, he thought, _that wasn't so bad._

It's was reality's version of an illusion, and an illusion lost in reality. That's what his life was.

_And it wasn't so bad._

-Xx-Xx-Xx-

_I want to fearlessly love the blood-soaked world  
That I was born in  
Rather than being forgiven, forgive and believe in me  
Count the number of lachrymose days  
On the sullied earth..._

-Xx-Xx-Xx-


End file.
